Enter .... Stonebridge

[Argus Steele]

Several hours and numerous refined searches later, Eve had finally tired of searching the database. Not that she didn't find anything interesting, maybe even useful, but she wasn't used to looking at a screen for long periods of time, and found the muscles in her neck and shoulders were beginning to ache from the collected tension there. The situation itself, along with the thoughts of returning to Stonebridge didn't make for a good combination. Memories of the institution kept trying to slink forward, while she continually kept trying to push them back; she didn't need them right now, not yet. She wanted to focus on this first, trying and figure out how to deal with it...

...If there was anything to deal with. The greatest problem was that uncertainty of what, if anything, had really happened. A few times, Eve had paused and closed her eyes, going through her encounter with the familiar in her head again. What was real, and what wasn't? The feeling that she really *had* done something was there, but that doubt remained. But the clarity...she'd never been that clear-headed before, never been that absolutely certain of herself, her abilities, her limits. She'd known what she was capable of, how to do it...all by just *thinking* about it.

But had it been real? Or had it just been her mind trying to break free from the illusion?

With no solid answers forthcoming, she'd started with a relatively simplistic search - 'psychic activity' was a wide net to cast, but she found some interesting things. Second sight, channeling, automatic writing, out-of-body experiences, astral travel, empathy, psychometry (which placed a more scientific name on her own 'touch-know' ability), precognition, clairvoyance, clairaudience, telepathy, telekinesis...the list seemed endless. There were mentions of 'Indigo children' (which she jotted down to check out later out of curiosity), as well as many accounts of these abilities in use or coming into use, but it was rare to see them emerge at nearly twenty. It seemed that much of the time, the activity would begin around the start of puberty, and seemed more common in females. She could only guess that the emotional turbulence had something to do with it, but it was just a theory, and a common one. Cases like her own seemed rarest, when the abilties had started in childhood and carried on..though Eve had her own ideas about that.

After narrowing the search a few times, the young woman came across several theories about those like her, and about late-emerging abilities. The general consensus seemed to be that the ability might have already been there, in potential. There were several reasons discussed for the reason that it didn't come into full use before, but the simplest for her to understand was that it was like a muscle - if it wasn't used, it would weaken. The theory went that times of great duress might be enough to 'break the barrier' and put it to use, even if unexpectedly.

Eve found herself a bit disappointed at the idea that it might not happen again, or that it could be uncontrolled, spontaneous - which was the last thing she needed. Bad enough the other abilities seemed to have minds of their own. What if this came out at odd moments?

She ran one more search before logging off: suggestions on ways to try and control it. She didn't think she'd actually come up with anything, given that this wasn't like a missing ingredient from a recipe or the answer to an equation. The only possible advice she could come up with was simple enough she could have thought of it - meditation, followed by concentration. Trying to tap it in other ways, to control it.

She logged off and retreated to the guest room, closing the door behind her. The apartment seemed quiet, with Steele left to whatever he was doing, and she focused on this. It *was* good to have a focus, even if she was unsure about it; it kept her mind from straying to unfriendly territory, kept her from retreating back into the nightmares that had come with Stonebridge.

..Too bad she just couldn't keep from going back there, period.

[Argus Steele]

Sitting on the bed, legs folded neatly into a lotus position and hands resting on her knees and eyes closed, Eve was trying to keep focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. It was a struggle in the beginning, to keep other thoughts from intruding on the calmness she was attempting to edge her body and mind alike into. Fears about seeing Doc threatened. Memories of Stonebridge intruded. Doubts in herself fluttered across her consciousness, fear that she was just crazy, that she'd fail, or worse.

Breathe. As the moments passed, it became a little easier. Her pulse calmed, and she set her mind to feeling the muscles in her body relax, from head-to-toe. More than once, Eve had to repeat the process; she felt a little silly, found herself vaguely worried that Steele would come bursting into the room with some news from Amber or Jared or the police, question what she was doing. That one was a little easier to shake; he hadn't come barging in on her yet, and if he did...well, all she had to say was exactly what she was doing. Granted, the book on the bed in front of her was a tad odd, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Tension drained from her neck and shoulders, and the hands on her knees relaxed. Her body was beginning to feel comfortably loose, flexible, stretched. She was more relaxed now than she'd been in quite some time; with only the quiet sound of her own respiration, the focus on feeling her own easy pulse, the expansion and contraction of her lungs with breath, Eve was finally gaining focus...and clarity.

It wasn't exactly the same kind of clarity she'd had while facing off with the familiar, but it wasn't far from it. This was a more peaceful feeling, though the knowledge of her own abilties hadn't come yet. That was something she'd have to discover once again, learn and carry with her rather than know for some fleeting moment.

It was an odd pespective, being able to step back and take a detached look at her own mind. There were some things she knew on a base level, and didn't even fight to change - the greatest of them being that the second sight was something ingrained in her part, part of her...not something that could be 'turned off.' The psychometry could be focused with practice, perhaps even the precognition...but the nightmares that were so commonplace for her threatened to break her sometimes. The cracks had already formed over the years, helping to place her a little left of center...

The stress, anxiety, fear...they all had to have an outlet, and until now, those nightmares were the only ones she'd ever been allowed.

The feeling of delicacy lingered, the sense that something was waiting just beneath the surface, out of her grasp. In later contemplation, she could only describe it as being like a thin sheet of ice between her conscious mind and this new energy. After carefully checking, testing, she found herself punching through, deliberately. Nothing extreme, only enough to give herself a little taste of the flow. A trickle to use, bend to her will...

The flutter-and-flow of the energy reminded her or a ribbon, long and unfurled, coiling around body and limbs alike, caught in the twist-and-twirl of a dance...but dangerous left without focus. It was strange feeling the warmth of that energy, the electric crackle of it through her body and mind alike.

Distantly, Eve felt the fingers of her right hand flutter against her leg, felt the warm weight of her hand leave her knee as she raised it. The sensations with this one were quite peculiar; aware without really being such. That same eletric warmth danced along her skin, against her fingertips as she moved her hand a little...

There was a sound like something brushing cloth, the soft crackle of leather and glue. A flutter of paper...Cracking an eyelid open, she saw the source: the book had flipped open on the bed, and the pages were energetically turning, as if something in particular was being seached for by an unseen hand.

She gasped, eyes going wide from excited surprise. She'd done it! Just wait until she -

The pages in the book suddenly ceased to turn, leaving off more than halfway through. For a moment she just stared, excitement falling away, before groaning and slapping her forehead lightly with her palm, wishing she hadn't broken her concentration
There was a sudden *whoosh* of something moving fast through the air, fast followed with the shattering of glass to which Eve squeaked and drew up instinctively. An electric crackle came on the heels of it, and the room went dark. There was a tinkling as glass hit the floor, collected on the bed, and a crunch as the book landed on some of it.

A heartbeat later she was uncovering her head from her arms, and taking a dismayed look around the room. Just enough light filtered in through the window for her to be able to see in pale shadows, and she was glad she still wore her sneakers. Pursing her lips, Eve glanced upward to the now-empty socket, then down to the book that lay with the cover splayed open, pages crinkled beneath its weight.

"...That didn't go so well." Sooo...maybe she *hadn't* lost concentration after all. Drawing a deep breath, she looked around, waiting to see if anything else was going to go flying. But...was it controlled?

Sighing, Eve pressed her fingertips to her eyes, then quickly removed them and carefully climbed up from the bed. Only one way to find out.

Drawing a deep breath, she focused on the book. Imagined the weight of it in her hands, the texture of it against her fingers, wanted it to move. *Willed* it to move.

Nothing happened.

"Great. When I *want* it to do something..." A little sigh, and she gave her head a shake. Eve picked up the book carefully and gave it a shake to knock the glass loose and put it on the dresser. She didn't have that oddly delicate feeling anymore, but it she thought it might be a safe bet that it wasn't going to pop up suddenly. Eve still intended to learn more control of it, now that she knew it wasn't out of her grasp. She'd just have to be more careful with it.

...But first, she'd have to find a broom, a dustpan, and a lightbulb.

[Argus Steele]

Once Eve had finally cleaned up well enough to assure herself that she wouldn't step or lie down on a piece of glass, she went for a shower. The experience of relatively uncontrolled telekinesis had been a bit scary, jaw-dropping...but all she'd been able to do afterward was laugh - but only *after* she was sure nothing more untoward was going to happen.

It was a little strange, she thought while turning on the water, adjusting it to her liking. Shouldn't she be tired after trying that? It would have made sense, but it was quite the opposite. Eve felt awake, energized, vital.

...Which wouldn't do her much good in getting a good night's sleep. She'd have to find a way to wind down somehow...

Pulling the door shut and snapping the lock into place, the young woman took her time disrobing, folded the clothes neatly and placed them next to the pjs she'd brought to change into. The room was already becoming warmer, pleasantly steamy. Hissing softly, Eve stepped into the hot water and quickly wet down her hair and face, closing her eyes.

So telekinesis seemed to be added to her list of troubles. At least this was one that she seemed to be able to get a handle on, offer some proof that it was real. It didn't mean tha she planned to tell Doc about it; she was still hesitant to let anyone else know at all, let alone *him.*

Not until she got better grasp on it, anyway. Then again...now that she knew it was really there, maybe she could talk to Amber about it. She was more approachable as another girl - even if her circumstances were a bit...unusual - and Eve just thought she'd understand better. She'd been told that Amber had had a 'poltergeist' event...maybe she had it too? Maybe she could offer some help, or at least some advice on dealing with it?

Biting her lower lip, she raked her fingers through her hair and reached for the soap. With her eyes closed, she groped for the bar...and didn't see as it edged into her grasp. Lathering up with a wash cloth, she scrubbed at her face and neck, working her way through the little daily ritual of bathing.

Anxiety. She was always a little anxious before seeing Dr. Maxwell, and would be even more so for going back to Stonebridge. She hated that place, felt her heart sink to the floor at the very thought of going back..

[Argus Steele]

Eve had thought she was in Hell after she woke up. That was where suicides went, wasn't it? Judging by the shouts, scrams and sobs that echoed around her, this wasn't a pleasant place....

The room she'd been in was smal, the walls glossed ghostly pal by the faint light that filtered through the tiny, barred window. She was laying flat on her back, arms and legs alike held to the bed by heavy straps. Her arms felt funny, ached, but wwere the only part of her that was warm at all.

There hadn't been any way to measure time; how long she pulled, tugged and twisted against the straps, Eve didn't know. How long the hellish cacophany continued, she didn't know. Eve kept finding herself remembering what had happened...

The dance recital, and deciding it was the last. The gleam of the razorblade in the light, the cold bite of it piercing her skin...

...Scarlet splashes of her life's blood on the blue dress, the pale carpet, dripping from her fingers...

...The laughing, and the empty-eyed stare from the mirror.

The light from the window had finally began to brighten; the screams stopped, for the most part. Voices moved outside the room, and they came in for her.

It was the first fight she'd ever been in, the first time she'd ever actually hurt anyone else.

And it was also the first time she'd ever been tasered - only after escaping their grasp after they unstrapped her, getting away from her cell. The white clad orderlies had caught her down the hall, rounding the corner. She'd almost evaded them too, until they'd shocked her.

Dr. Maxwell hadn't been too pleased with her; Eve could only guess that he didn't give a seconds consideratoin to her side. She was barely more than a child, and no one had bothered to tell her anything, try and explain what happened.

Most of what he'd said then slipped through the proverbial cracks, but she recalled clearly the last thing he said to her, the predatory smile he wore.

"Welcome home."

[Argus Steele]

The memory of her first day in the confines of Stonebridge caused a further onslaught, which changed Eve's mood dramatically. Her thoughts took on a darker tone, almost despairing. But it was stupid, she kept telling herself. She was only going to see Doc because of her release terms...and for the investigation with NWI.

For the first time, the idea that all of this might have been some grand scheme concocted by Dr. Maxwell crossed her mind -- that Steele, Jared, even Amber could have been part of it, knowingly or not. Doc had always believed she was crazy, had even gotten *her* to believe it. What better way to screw with someone's head than to shatter *that* perception and replace it with another, all over again? It could easily have become two different sides debating her sanity, each trying to convince her of their way of thinking...

Eve stood with a comb halfway through her dark locks, eyes wide. Giving it consideration. With a loud groan at herself, she yanked the comb through and gave her head a rough shake. "Don't even go there..." That really *did* sound delusional.

But it was still and idea she had a hard time shaking.

The apartment seemed weirdly quiet by the time she emerged from her bath. Funny, she'd gotten used to always hearing something - a movie playing, the indistinct sounds of Steele on the phone, music, or even just the faint, high hum of a computer. Now there was...nothing. Maybe he was sleeping?

Eve suspected that he slept about as much - and maybe even as well - as she did. But there was always a chance she was wrong.

Grabbing a drink from the fridge (what was with this guy and the diets?) she retired back to the guest room. Nothing seemed amiss - until an upward glance showed the glass broken from the light fixture, the little metal frame slightly bent. The book *had* hit pretty hard...

She found the book where she'd left it, on the dresser just in front of the blanket-covered mirror. It was actually a little journal, one that she hadn't made so much as a mark in yet.

Eve had never tried keeping a diary before. She'd been watched too closely when she was younger, and the temptation to write the truth, to vent on paper would have been too great.

...But she wasn't a child anymore; in fact, those around her even claimed to believe her. Not for the first time, she wished that she could just *trust* the people around her, not worry about the outcome.

A moment for a stretch, then Eve found a pen. There was no telling what might happen at Stonebridge, what would happen with Doc. If Argus was right and it was all really a cover for something deeper...then there was always a chance something could go very wrong.

Granted, Steele would be with her, but it wasn't really him she was worried about; it was her. Her luck wasn't the kind that would ever be helpful in playing the lottery, but when it came to getting into trouble, she'd hit it big.

The diary wouldn't really be for her, at least, not the first entry. Settling down and getting comfortable on the bed, pillow propped in her lap, another behind her back, she wrote a notation for the date and time. What was she going to say? The harder part. A few moments more for thought and composition, and Eve began to write.

[Argus Steele]

Clouds had moved in over the course of the night, and it had rained heavily for a while. By dawn the rain had stopped, but the heavy clouds lingered, the overcast skies giving the day an overall gloomy feel, and an incessant, chill breeze stirred the air. It matched Eve's mood; she'd been quiet much of the drive to Stonebridge, contemplating what she would say, how she would behave, trying to ease herself into the slightly detached mindset she needed to deal with Dr. Maxwell. She found him frustrating, but the feeling was mutual, and the man would try to snare her in a lie, do anything he felt necessary to give validation to the claim that she was unfit to live beyond those walls.

...And out of his tight grasp.

The institution itself was set pretty far beyond city limits, perched atop a wide hill. Those that lived nearby often joked that it was a castle for the mad; it certainly looked like it. Crafted mostly of red brick and grey slate, with the old ornamental ironwork still in place along the roof and towers, it resembeled a castle more than an asylum. It was actually reconstructed in the late 1800s according to the Kirkbride plan for patient care, which explained the peculiar setup of the buildings. Kirkbride held the belief that a humane and compassionate environment would help restore the patients to a more normal mental balance. One could compare the shape of the institution to that of a huge bat with wings outstretched - the main 'body' mostly storage rooms and offices, along with a few common areas for patients. Each 'wing' was actually composed of four smaller buildings, all connected but slightly staggered. The intention had been for each room to have a view of the grounds and 'unrestricted air flow,' though all of the windows were barred.

The grounds surrounding the asylum were actually quite lovely, neatly manicured, even though the high chain-link fence ruined it a little. The fence was marked off every few feet for so with bright yellow tags that proclaimed it to be electrified. Not that it would really matter so much; unless things had changed dramatically, Eve knew they were rarely allowed outside.

She really didn't really want to get out of the SUV, but forced herself. Bad enough that she'd had time to think about all of it on the drive there; any longer, and the hesitation would only become worse, until she'd talk herself out of going in at all. As soon as they'd come to a stop, Eve had unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out, pausing to draw a deep breath and glance around. Very little had changed; the main entrance was still fenced off from the rest, with a pretty fountain in the front, complete with little angels pouring water from pitchers at varying heights. Just inside the door would be a check-in point; the visitors had to flash some ID to check in, get the little stamp on the hand and clip for their lapel that proclaimed 'visitor.' Eve had never been sure if she should find that funny or not; the stamp was childish, and the clip was just...ridiculous.

The building had been reworked numerous times over the years; hazardous building materials had been removed, replaced, and other updates had been made - both cosmetic and for security's sake. Cameras and both card and code locks had been added. The walls had been replastered, repainted in soothing shades of blue and yellow and pink and green, except for the occasional mural in bold primaries here and there, the tile pulled up and replaced with something glossy white. The scent of sterlity was heavy in the air, but also something fainter, more difficult to define; after spending years there, Eve knew the scent.

Madness. Fear.

Now and again she'd pause for a moment, make a remark about this or that building, or something that had happened there, something she'd Seen. And quietly made an admission to something there in the hall..."It's strange, how I'd forgotten about this part." Eve had hooked her fingers through the belt loops of her jeans, these in a pale wash, made to look slightly faded. It looked as if she'd put some thought into the way she dressed for this; she'd chosen another of those seamed button-down shirts in white, but left it open enough at the neck to see the light blue hem of the camisole she wore beneath it. The brown jacket she'd pulled on over it was light, and she'd drawn her curls back with a pair of silver butterfly pins, even slicked on a little berry-tinged lip gloss. She'd come to realize that *how* she looked during these meetings could be almost as important as what she said. Too cheery, and he knew she was faking; too many dark colors, and he believe she was depressed. Couldn't win for losing, really.

Her stormy gaze flickered down the floor more than once, and it was hard to keep from skipping aside. There was chill in the hall, but nothing extreme; just a breath of cold air, but easily discounted as just part of the old, drafty building. "There are a lot of them here...but they're not like the others. Things held here, I mean. Little orbs all over the place, near the floor." They'd flicker, bounce around to her eyes, even pass through walls and people with no real effect; for some reason, Eve equated them with children, though she'd never been able to find out if a children's ward had ever existed there. She remembered this from her previous stay there, but somehow, it had gotten lost in the greater weight of her fears.

The halls through the institution could be confusing; some of the signs were outdated, or altogether illegible. Even she could get turned around there; this part wasn't as familiar as the rest, but eventually, she and Argus would arrive outside a door that read "Dr. D. Maxwell." Throwing Steele a glance as if to ask 'are you ready for this?' Eve gave her shoulders a roll and reached up, tapped the frosted glass. A voice inside bade them to enter, and they did.

The room inside looked as she remembered it - elegant cherry furniture, shelves lined with rows and rows of books. A lean man in his fifties or so looked up from making some notation in an open file, but didn't look surprised to see her, or that she wasn't alone; Eve figured that meant he'd been notified.

Laying his pen aside and closing the file, the man laced his fingers together on top of it, and raised an inquisitive brow at Eve. "How nice. You missed our last appointment." His sharp face was lined, and had the look that scowls might be far more common than smiles, and his dark hair was greying at the temples. His green eyes, predator quick, flickered from her to Steele quickly.

"Well, hello to you too." She flashed a saccharine sweet smile, stepping into the room. "Some things came up, and I couldn't make it. Yeah, I know I'm supposed to phone ahead and all, but..." The young woman let that trail off into a shrug. He could take it as he wanted - either she was too busy, or she just didn't want to. Fifty/fifty shot. "This is a good friend of mine. He's been kind enough to put me up and put up with me after a situation or two, and he drove me all the way out here. Bad weather and all, you know." She made a brush away gesture, hooking her thumbs into her belt loops. "I think it's only fair that he gets to sit in on this."

Doc hadn't been looking at Eve as she spoke, but eyeing Argus as if to stare holes in him. His thin lips quirked into a slightly predatory grin after a moment, and he rose, coming from around the desk to offer Steele his hand. "Dr. Damon Maxwell. And you are...?"

Her wide-eyed gaze flickered between the two, and she found herself nipping at the inside of her lower lip. Nervous habit; she wasn't exactly sure what to expect. It wasn't everyday her psychiatrist was introduced to someone she referred to as a friend...and a paranormal investigator at that. Eve's features had faded into that doll-like neutrality, eyes betraying little of what she thought - or her actual nervousness.

[Argus Steele]

There would be no last minute rah-rah speech for Eve, only a nod and a wink. She knew the stakes as well the risks of what they were heading into, so Argus only said one thing before they left the SUV ...

"I got your back." Then a quick once over. "And the rest of you too."

Nothing like a little humor to take the edge off. Steele would not pretend that he knew what she was putting herself through/thinking about right then. She was willing to do this despite her personal feelings, and that impressed the Hell out of him.

However the moment they stepped through the doors leading inside Stonebridge? Argus whole demeanor suddenly changed/went neutral, autonomous, independent, sovereign, unaffiliated; nonbelligerent; individualistic; disinterested, evenhanded, fair, impartial, unbiased, uninfluenced, unprejudiced, and last but not least, bipartisan.

That sums it up. Tucking his shades inside the upper jacket pocket, pretty much just taking it all in while Eve led the way.

Doc hadn't been looking at Eve as she spoke, but eyeing Argus as if to stare holes in him. His thin lips quirked into a slightly predatory grin after a moment, and he rose, coming from around the desk to offer Steele his hand. "Dr. Damon Maxwell. And you are...?"

Argus extended his own hand while offering a strong/firm enough grip to the Doctor whom he knew was already trying to figure him out the moment he stepped from around the desk. Argus had been through enough of these encounters with the military shrinks to give the good Doctor nothing to go on. A confident posture. Steady eye contact. Strong speech. Everything was kosher save for the hints of that trademark *I know something you don't know * smirk of his.

"Tohmaz A. Steele." Nothing more needed to be said, save for a nod of head, before releasing Doctor Maxwell's hand. Granted it was far more quicker than the last time she had witnessed it, there was that *look* in Steele's eyes. Only to be gone a blink later. Instead of taking any offered seat, Argus would choose to stand behind Eve's chair, with his hands resting lightly along her shoulders. He even forgone the mirrored glasses this time around. It was time to give the good Doctor what he needs to hear ...

"I would have stayed in the waiting room Damon, but after Elf here mentioned this fine establishment, I had to see it for myself, being a astute follower of Scientology, for man is an immortal, a spiritual being. His experience extends well beyond a single lifetime. His capabilities are unlimited, even if not presently realized, and those capabilities can be realized. He is able to not only solve his own problems, accomplish his goals and gain lasting happiness, but also achieve new, higher states of awareness and ability."

Argus would pause long enough to make sure he had the good Doctor's attention before continuing ...

"In Scientology no one is asked to accept anything as belief or on faith. That which is true for you is what you have observed to be true. An individual discovers for himself that Scientology works by personally applying its principles and observing or experiencing results. Through Scientology, people all over the world are achieving the long-sought goal of true spiritual release and freedom."

And through all the time he said this, his stare never wavered from that of Doctor Maxwell. Yup, Argus T. Steele not only came prepared, but brought his lunch to boot. And Eve? She would get a reassuring squeeze of her shoulders, while witnessing yet another side of Steele.

Before the Doctor had a chance to respond to this newcomer's statement, Argus would give him something else to chew on, after clearing his throat.

"A stated goal of Scientology is to rehabilitate the *soul* to regain its native state of total freedom. Church spokesmen and practitioners attest that Hubbard's teachings (called "Technology" or "Tech" in Scientology terminology) have saved them from a plethora of problems and enabled them to better realize their highest potential in business and their personal lives. One I feel can be reached without the resorting to over medicating those placed in your care."

"Just ask Tom Cruise."

[Argus Steele]

Argus on the other hand, merely stood his ground, by standing in front of Eve with quite the concerned expression ... "Easy there, Damon. If I didn't know it better, I swear you were about to cause harm to one of your patients, or at least provide probable cause to give her reason *beyond* a shadow of a doubt to be wary of her own safety, and for what? Expressing her own opinion? Isn't that what you're supposed to helping her do?"

Argus' next action would be to point in several places inside Dr. Maxwell's office before motioning back to the man himself. "No need to deny the loss of temper Damon, I bet the Institute's own security cameras in here have already picked up on that little outburst, as well Eve's reaction to it, and I'm sure the Board of Directors would not like to have their impeccable record smudged by this little incident. Might even raise questions to who else you've prescribe this type of bed side manner to. So, we either sit and continue our little discussion, or you can explain your loss of temper. Stress? Then you shouldn't be behind the desk with such a burnout mind set. Not good for any around you, or those placed in your care."

And Eve? She got to witness firsthand Argus' uncanny ability to push the buttons in others, for he was right on all levels. The camera would show the Doctor raising from his desk, as well including a *certain* audio portion of his comment, for a person of his stature should not be so easily rattled.

"And the reason I'm here? Those same drugs you've been prescribing to Eve? Way too strong. I should know, because they gave me the same thing right after my medical discharge from the war. The names might be different, but the results are still the same. I'm twice her weight, and yet what you gave her would have put me over the top. But wait, you want proof. Here you go. Here's what I take. It's all legit. And I think you know the Doctor's name at the bottom of the bottle. Tops in his field. Don't want to call him? I already did, on our way here. He should be contacting you shortly. Then you can explain your reasoning behind giving military like medication to someone that did not warrant it."

Only then did Argus pull out those mirrored shades, place them over his eyes, turn to face Eve with a sincere grin, before simply saying ...

"Booyah."

The expression on one Doctor Damon Maxwell's face, or the lack of one spoke volumes.

[Argus Steele]

Eve had found herself watching the interactions between her psychiatrist and partner closely; she wasn't sure *what* she'd expected to happen, but the mere shaking of hands and exchange of names wasn't it. Better that Steele had introduced himself though, because she probably would have given his name as 'Argus' rather than Theo...

She was a tad puzzled at why Steele didn't sit down, but stood behind her instead. Hands on her shoulders. What was that about? Vaguely, the girl wondered about his reasoning. Something he didn't want her to see? Or was it something more peculiar, like...a protectiveness, or a 'dominance' issue? Whatever the case, she thought a little odd, but didn't say anything about it. It was just nice to know she wasn't the only one facing Dr. Maxwell.

Then...then he'd had to go and call her 'Elf.' Doc's eyes gave him away, flickering to her to see her reaction. Eve sat quietly in the glossy chair, elbows resting along the arms, fingers interlaced over her lap, posture elegantly straight, and in response to the nickname, she only gave a small smile....that faltered a bit, and faded the more Steele talked.

Scientology. She did well -very well, actually - to keep her expression serene, not to turn around and gawk at Steele like she wanted to, or ask him what in *hell* he was talking about. While Eve didn't know much about Scientology, she wasn't one to buy into it; it was just too weird, even for her.

But Theo had a point, didn't he? The medication. The heavy anti-psychotics she'd been loaded on for years, the ones that had made her so ill, dulled down her emotions to the point of being almost empty...

Her fingers tightened, subtly, and Eve realize that she'd been holding her breath in waiting for Doc's response. He didn't tend to take too well to questioning his diagnoses or treatment methods...

A shout, explosion, or the two of them just being ordered out altogther - Eve wasn't sure what she actually expected. For all of a heartbeat, Dr. Maxwell's expression slipped and let a glimpse of his true thoughts and feelings through - most of which amounted to pure, unadulerated rage. She Felt it keenly, like a hot breeze across her skin, a bright spark in her head. He regained control of his vulpine features quickly, however, and snapped shut on those emotions. Instead, he flashed another of those tight little smiles - which was really more of a baring of teeth than a real smile - and cleared his throat. Nothing wrong there. All good-natured humor. Doctor knows best.

Yeah, right.

"I see. You would base these beliefs that I overmedicate my patients on what, Mr. Steele? Something you read in a book?" His bright eyes - too bright, Eve had always thought - flashed to her, before returning to Steele. "Or the misguided understandings of a young woman?"

Naturally...that put Eve on the defensive. The bright spark of anger hadn't faded fully out of her head, but she was Aware enough to realize that it wasn't really her own anger - but she could use it all the same. Leaning forward in the seat, her tongue darted out to dampen her lips, and came away with a taste of berry gloss on them. Not hesitating before speaking, but framing her thoughts. "You once gave me Clozaril, Doc. That alone was enough to result in my hospitalization because of the resulting seizures and myocarditis." Unblinking, Eve flashed her own teeth in one of those tight little smiles, mimicking his own. "Yes, I was awake enough to hear the diagnosis, though you certainly didn't think so. You forget that 'unbalanced' does not equate 'stupidity.'"

Settling back into the chair once more, she continued to watch Doc. That was probably the most clear, frank thing she'd ever said to him. No evasion, or reasoning, or uncertainty.

"But I digress. Between the ages of 10 and 19 I was on five different medications, all for the treatment of the same thing; I'd call that over medicating, wouldn't you?" The delicate arch of a brow, and slight tilt of her head. "Couldn't have been just as easy to try a tiny shred of belief and understanding on your part, could it?"

Sooo...maybe she was saying more than she should have. Eve had some things to get off her chest, things she'd *wanted* to say for a long time, and well...he was one of those she wanted to say it to. Her parents were *really* the ones she wanted to tell off, but in lieu of them, well, the doctor that had 'treated' her for so long would do just fine. Eve didn't even give him time to form a response; she simply continued. "No, it wouldn't. It was easier to deny it, tell me I'm crazy, and medicate me to try and keep me quiet. Too bad it didn't work, isn't it?"

In the back of her mind, she knew there were things about the entire ordeal she'd undergone that were suspect; Dr. Maxwell's reasoning in dealing with her parents and placing her on the potent medications from such a young age first and foremost among them. She already knew that Steele believed there was more to all of this, though she wasn't certain of the depth of it. There were a lot of things she was only now beginning to work out for herself, pieces of the puzzle that were coming to her attention, or falling into place.

Damon Maxwell's face remained a blank mask, but Eve could Feel the rage flaring up behind it. No tight little farce of a smile appeared this time. Now he simply stood up slowly and placed his hands palm flat on the top of his desk, leaning over from his imposing height to regard her. It seemed that he'd forgotten Steele's presence altogether...

His eyes *were* a tad too bright, she was now sure. Bright, venomous green..."You were sick." He spoke quietly, carefully articulating every word. Eve had the sense that he was trying to keep a grasp on his rage, not let it slip beyond his control. Maxwell wasn't used to Eve being this confident, not at all; even she was faintly surprised at herself, but pleased with it. It may have only been an illusion of control, but it was one she'd hold onto. "I have been your doctor for ten years, and I have only had the best of intentions for you. I medicated you with hopes of making you better, and tried to counsel you in hopes that you might one day have a normal life."

"Normal? That's a joke. What is normal anyway, Doc? But no, I think you did it with all intents of emptying me out up here - " She tapped her right temple with a fingertip. " - In hopes that I'd break and you could probe around and try to figure a few things out. Would have been better if it had just worked, wouldn't it?" Again she leaned forward to regard him. "...Or if I hadn't had the luck to get out in the first place?"

*That* was a sore spot with Maxwell, if there was one. If looks could kill, she'd have been toe-tagged right about now..."Why you miserable, ungreatful little..." It was the closest to an explosion she'd ever seen him come too. While the odd brightness of his eyes and subtle cracks of the desktop under the pressure of his hands *did* worry Eve a little, she couldn't deny being a little satisfied.

...Even if she *did* slide out of that chair and make sure she was a step or two away from him.

[Argus Steele]

- Code blue!! Code Blue!! Room #2642!! Dr. Maxwell, Dr. Cromwell, report immediately!!! -


Saved by the intercom. The look on Dr. Maxwell's face was priceless, but the announcement that came in over the PA system saved him from having to figure out how to respond. Eve was sure the psychiatrist was relieved to be free of the discussion, on some level at least, but probably at least mildly annoyed by the interruption. Steele seemed to have a knack for hitting the right buttons, and by her judgment, he'd lit up the board this time. Funny, she'd only managed to do that a few good times in ten years.

Doc had left the door open after he'd hit at a near-run, leaving it open so they could see the nurses and interns that were trailing close behind. Maxwell's voice carried back to them, sharper than usual with irritation. "Move people, we've an emergency!"

Eve found herself looking up at Argus in question, and the change in her expression was interesting to watch. Curiosity turned to dawning fear, then to pure dread. 2642. She knew that room number, didn't she? It hadn't been hers. It had belonged to..."Oh, God." Her eyes widened slightly, the color drained from her cheeks, and she felt her stomach twist.

"Eve? Where are you - " 'Going' was probably going to be the word Steele would stay next, but she was already gone, not wasting another second for thought or explanation. She'd simply turned and darted out of the room, fast on the heels of the institution pesonnel, making Argus break into a sprint to catch up to her.

She could hear the terrified screams of the girl in the hall before she ever reached the room, the shouts and orders of Maxwell and the other staff members inside. "...The hell happened here?" That from Damon Maxwell, hardly heard over the shriek of the girl's voice. Eve remembered that voice, felt the fear contained in the sound slice right through to the core of her being...

"...Not sure, Doctor. Jasmine was fine until a few moments ago. Then she started screaming and seizing..."

Skidding to a stop in front of the door, Eve peered inside, failing to notice the pound of her own heart or slight tremor in her hands. Chaos had erupted in the room; the blond girl had been pulled onto her narrow bed, the heavy ankle and wrist restraints used in an effort to keep her from hurting herself. The girl seemed to be pushing the boundaries of those binds, her thin frame twisting and writhing in ways that didn't seem natural. "Jasmine." She whispered the word, but it almost seemed that the girl heard her. Brown eyes turned to the door, locked on Eve.

"Where is Cromwell?"

Eve hardly noticed as Steele had stepped up beside her, and no one inside seemed to notice the two just outside the door. She didn't especially want to, but Eve found herself slipping into the room, staying just along the edge of the doorway. Jasmine was still staring at her, as if to draw her inside, pleading with her to *do something.*

"He should be on his way. Dammit, she's swallowing her tongue! Give me some help here!"

"Good Lord, what is going on here?" Another male voice from the hall, from a shorter, somewhat heavyset man with thick spectacles. Eve was aware of him, but didn't turn to look at him. Her gaze was still locked with Jasmine's.

"Dr. Cromwell! We don't know, Jasmine just started to..."

"Get the sedative from the emergency box, *now!* Dammit! She just snapped her restraint! Damon, grab her arm before - Who the hell are you?! You're not authorized to be in here, either of you!"

Steele had seen enough, apparently, and shoved his way into the room, pushing past several nurses and an orderly or two that felt it more intelligent *not* to get in his way. "Shove your authority, Doc. This frail's about to go into cardiac arrest unless you calm her down."

"Fine! You there, hold her down while we try to slow her heart rate." Neither Maxwell or Cromwell seemed happy that the two of them were present; vaguely, she wondered if perhaps this was part of some kind of experiment gone wrong, or if it really was an accident. Difficult to tell, at least for now.

Steele helped hold the girl down. Eve found herself drifting closer, hesitantly, not wanting to but finding it difficult to withdraw. She wanted to leave the room, leave Jasmine's side, try and escape the cutting grasp of that fear, but couldn't do so. Eve was afraid of what might happen, but knew she *had* to be there...

" She broke her arm free! Watch ou - "

Jasmine's hand snatched Eve by the wrist, fingers curling around in a death grip, brown eyes still locked to grey. As soon as skin-to-skin contact was made, Eve found the world crackling, shattering around her and falling away like so many panes of glass.

<font color="#FFFFFF" size="1">[ October 04, 2007 04:50 PM: Message edited by: Tohmaz A. Steele ]</font>